


The Complications of Dating with the Parasitic Nature of Fig Trees

by jezza



Series: A Study in Romantic Complexities [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Dates, Grinding, M/M, Making Out, Picnics, Save the bees, boys reversing cars, changbin is very passionate about sex ed, minsung are cute but what's new, these kids are smitten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 12:03:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19945858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jezza/pseuds/jezza
Summary: As any good emo kid should, Jisung wonders: is dating Minhomore than he’d bargained for, yet?





	The Complications of Dating with the Parasitic Nature of Fig Trees

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Las Complicaciones de Tener una Cita con la Naturaleza Parasitaria de los Árboles de Higo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20063725) by [Higelaw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higelaw/pseuds/Higelaw)



> Minsung are idiots part 2! Thank you to everyone who asked for this it was really fun to write! I hope you enjoy!

“Changbin, let me in,” Jisung shouts, banging on the door in a rhythm just cacophonous enough that it will bring Changbin crawling out just to get rid of Jisung’s infernal noise making.

It’s a skill he’s honed well over the years.

Changbin opens the door, looking just the right mix of affectionate and pissed off. Mission success.

“Binnie,” he whines, “I need your help.”

Changbin moves aside to let Jisung in, trotting over to the bed and beckoning Jisung over.

“Come sit. Tell me your woes.”

“You know how Minho and I have been talking, right?”

“You mean your boyfriend?” Changbin leers, nudging at Jisung’s ribs.

“No. Stop. He’s not my boyfriend. Not yet. That’s why I need help.”

“You wanna ask him out?”

Jisung bites his lip. “Well, no. He already asked me out.”

“Holy shit.”

Jisung doesn’t appreciate how surprised Changbin looks, but then he gets smothered by a hug and a face full of hair. He giggles a little, wrapping his arms around Changbin for a few seconds before pushing him off.

“Yeah. But I’m hecking nervous now.”

Changbin smiles. “Sungie, you don’t need to be nervous. He obviously likes you. I mean, look at how you met. If that didn’t scare him off, I don’t know what will.”

“You have a point,” Jisung concedes, flopping onto his back. “I don’t know, I just don’t want it to go badly and then we never talk again.”

“It’ll be fine and then you’ll go and get married and have a million babies and everything will work out perfectly. Now, on that note, Sungie, you don’t need me to give you the talk, do you?”

“Ugh,” Jisung frowns, “please Changbin, do not. You know you don’t need to. And I do _not_ want to hear that.”

Changbin sighs. “No, I think I need to. I can’t send you out into the world without some sort of education, can I?”

To Jisung’s absolute horror, Changbin pulls out his laptop, opening it up to a presentation. Complete with pictures.

“What the fuck, did you just have that ready–”

“Now this is a dick,” Changbin starts in a drawling monotone, “I’m sure you’ve seen one before, as I have solid reason to believe you are in possession of one yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, we all know you’ve seen my dick, let’s move on.”

Jisung’s still not over the streaking. Even though it was his idea, he wasn’t gonna be mean enough to make Changbin or Felix _actually_ go through with it. A courtesy he expected would have been reciprocated.

But apparently not. Because Seo Changbin is a devil.

A tiny, hideous devil.

“That got you a date, stop hating,” Changbin scolds, flicking to the next slide. “Moving on, this is a condom. Now, I doubt you’ve ever seen one of these, cause you’re a loser, but–”

 _Nope_. Jisung’s done with mortification for today.

“Nope,” he parrots, channelling his internal monologue that’s screaming _run run run_ and hops up, grabbing Changbin’s laptop. He grabs Changbin next, tugging him up and pushing him out the door. “I _do not_ need sex ed from you, Changbin. Please kindly fuck off. Thank you.”

And with that, Jisung shoves Changbin’s laptop into his arms and slams the door in his face. He seems to be doing that a lot lately. But then again, Changbin is being a mighty irritation lately.

Jisung sighs and goes to lie down. He needs a nap. But when he flops down on the bed, he falls into far more plushies than usual.

He just kicked Changbin out of his own room.

“Well, shit.”

-

Contrary to popular belief, Jisung hates surprises. It must be something about his personality – maybe the hyperactivity, or the noise factor – whatever it is, people are far too convinced that making him practically shit himself with shock is something that he enjoys on the regular and would love to happen whenever someone wants to do something remotely nice for him.

Not so much.

Minho had been adamant though, when they were talking about what to do on their first date; he wanted to _surprise_ Jisung. And Jisung, too caught up in the excited grin on Minho’s face and the stars in his eyes, couldn’t bring himself to say no.

Video calls are not good for self-restraint.

So here they are, Jisung being led by the hand out of his dorm room and down outside to Minho’s waiting car.

“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going yet?” Jisung teases as they get into the car.

“Don’t think so,” Minho sings back, looking over his shoulder to reverse out.

Jisung’s seen the memes about hot guys reversing cars with the arm behind the passenger seat move, but he’d only ever laughed at them.

Now, he can sadly relate.

Because Minho squints cutely in concentration, biting his lip a little as he inches the car out, and Jisung suddenly feels very lost. There’s something about the way he’s _everywhere_ around Jisung and this car is just so _Minho_ , what with the dints in the bonnet and the pink seat covers, not to mention the Loch Ness Monster sticker on the rear windscreen.

Or maybe it’s the way that Minho’s tank top gives Jisung a front row seat to what maybe the nicest arms he’s seen on anyone since Changbin started hitting the gym.

Jisung’s a weak bitch and you heard it here first.

Minho keeps him distracted with mindless chatter the whole drive, and by the time they’re pulling up to park, Jisung’s completely forgotten about drilling him for information. Sadly, he doesn’t need to bother with it anymore, because he can take a guess at what they’re doing at a park.

“A picnic?” he asks, hiding his grin behind a hand.

“Yeah,” Minho says, motioning for Jisung to stay put as he gets out of the car. He crosses over to Jisung’s side, opens his door, and pulls him out by the hand.

Jisung’s a little flustered, and he knows it shows, what with the way he squeaks out a thank you. Minho doesn’t seem to mind though, going by the self-assured way he smirks and takes Jisung’s hand in the one of his that isn’t reaching for the picnic basket.

He didn’t quite anticipate Minho paying him the same stalkerish level of attention though. Because as soon as they step onto the slightly muddy grass, Jisung winces, cursing himself for wearing his white sneakers.

“I didn’t anticipate that it would rain this morning, so it’s a little muddy, but I did bring a picnic rug,” Minho says in a rush, glancing between Jisung and the park.

“Perfect!” Jisung all but yells. He doesn’t like this type of uncertainty on Minho. “We’re all set then.”

Jisung’s usually pretty chill, but he doesn’t mind amping it up when someone clearly needs it – and Minho does, because Jisung’s not a fan of dates where someone’s sitting right on the edge of awkwardness. And it’s no one’s fault but his own if his shoes get a little muddy.

He grabs Minho’s hand, pulling him into the park and looking around for a nice tree to sit under.

“How about over there?” he asks, pointing to an old fig tree in the middle of the park.

Minho smiles. “Looks perfect.”

They take their time positioning the blanket, because Minho wants it _just so_ , and Jisung lets him fiddle to humour him, when he’s really just keen to eat whatever it is Minho’s packed into the cute little picnic basket.

He’s pleasantly surprised though, when it turns out that Minho cooked for them, and that he actually can cook _well_ , far beyond Jisung’s capabilities of chucking all the food that needs to be eaten into a pan and calling it a day.

“Minho,” he manages to get out, cheeks full. “You’re a talented dude, I guess.”

Minho raises an eyebrow. “Thanks. _I guess_.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up,” Jisung mutters, stuffing more food into his mouth.

There’s no escaping that it’s a cute date, from whichever way you look at it, and Jisung’s not in the habit of denying things that are only advantageous to his own interests.

But there’s the simple fact that Minho makes him nervous. It’s undoubtedly the good kind of nervous; the kind where butterflies set off a chain reaction of blooming roses, and Jisung is overwhelmed by the feeling that this could be _something_.

They’ve talked a lot in the few weeks since they’ve met – a hell of a lot in fact, and Jisung doesn’t think he’s talked this much to one person since he’d first met Changbin. But despite that, they still don’t really know each other and he can hear himself start to rattle on about the most nonsense things just to fill the silence.

He’s been going on about fucking _save the bees_ for probably too long to be socially acceptable when Minho reaches out and gently pushes his jaw shut.

“Jisung,” he laughs, “do you really care that much about the bees?”

“Well, yeah, I guess so,” Jisung stalls, eyeing the way Minho’s grinning in a way he can’t decipher, all toothy and beautiful.

“Hmm,” Minho hums, pulling Jisung down to lie on the rug with him. “Let’s slow down. We have time.”

Jisung finds himself nodding in reply, curling a little closer to Minho and picking up his hand again.

“I don’t like fig trees,” Minho says out the blue, and Jisung can’t hold back a snort.

“That’s a little harsh, what did the fig tree ever do to you?”

Minho squints. “Look at it. It’s ugly. All messy and gross. And they’re parasites too, can’t forget about that.”

Jisung’s a little taken aback by how many feelings Minho has about fig trees, but when he looks up at it, all the branches and trunks splayed around in disarray, he can’t help but agree a little.

But there’s no way he can tell Minho that.

“You’re a parasite,” is what he settles on, sticking his tongue out.

Minho sticks out his own in retaliation, before rolling over and lying on top of Jisung.

“Maybe I am,” he sings, content to leave Jisung squashed beneath him. 

“Gross,” Jisung mutters, but he doesn’t make a move to get Minho off him, sighing a little and tentatively wrapping his arms around Minho’s waist.

They stay there for a while, and Jisung’s convinced that Minho might have even dozed off a little, head tucked into Jisung’s neck. The afternoon sun keeps them warm in all the places they aren’t pressed together, and Jisung has to keep himself from slipping into a nap of his own.

“Minho,” he says, pinching his waist a little. “Time to wake up.”

Minho comes to remarkably fast – better than Jisung could ever hope to achieve, even if he was getting anything near the recommended level of sleep.

“Oh shit,” Minho laughs, pushing himself off Jisung. “Sorry for falling asleep on you.”

“I don’t mind,” Jisung says honestly, shrugging a little. Minho’s not expecting that, clearly, from the way he tilts his head with a little smile.

He has a way of looking at Jisung, like he’s looking straight past all his bullshit bravado that he puts up for the benefit of himself and anyone else in the world. But maybe Minho doesn’t need – or want – the filter. 

“Come on,” Minho eventually says, getting up and pulling Jisung along with him. “Time to go.”

Jisung can’t help but pout a little, but he helps Minho gather up the blanket and repack the basket, not bothering to fight when Minho insists on carrying it all. He takes Minho’s hand instead, and settles for tugging him along when he starts to walk back towards the carpark.

But Minho doesn’t move, and Jisung’s hit with a little déjà vu as he’s pulled back into Minho’s orbit. There’s that something in the way Minho’s looking at him, refusing to move from their spot under the fig tree, his grip on Jisung’s hand tightening ever so slightly.

“Jisung,” he murmurs, eyes unmoving, “can I kiss you?”

Jisung blinks. He can’t handle the eye contact. But he manages to reply. Eventually.

“Yeah.”

And then Minho’s dropping the picnic basket and pressing Jisung against their least favourite fig tree. His hands come up to stroke Jisung’s cheeks – once, twice, and Jisung feels a blush setting in – but then none of that even registers in his brain once Minho presses his lips against his.

He’s overwhelmingly gentle, and Jisung almost cries because this boy is too good for this world, what with the way his hand slips into Jisung’s hair to cradle his head, stroking softly through the tangles he got from lying down. And then he doesn’t hesitate to reach out with his tongue, and Jisung lets him, his own darting out to meet Minho’s.

Minho presses forward more, a little hesitantly, but Jisung doesn’t hesitate to grab him by the belt loops and bring him closer. He opens his legs a little, letting Minho lean in against him, pressing together in all the right ways.

Jisung whines a little and he feels Minho grin into his mouth, and it’s all _good_ , and then Minho’s bringing his leg up a little higher to grind a little better and Jisung’s sighing – until he’s not.

“Fuck!” he shouts, pushing Minho away from him and falling over onto the ground. He can feel the mud and leaves sticking to his shirt but he’s not that concerned about that right now, not when his dick is in _extreme pain_.

Minho, bless his heart, just looks adorably confused. “Jisung, you didn’t… you didn’t just _come_ , did you?”

“What the fuck!?” Jisung squeaks, “Minho, you absolute _ditz_. You kneed me in the dick!”

“Oh shit,” Minho giggles, “so that’s not your orgasm face?”

Jisung groans, struggling to remember what exactly it was about Minho that he ever found attractive.

“Sadly not. It’s my _my dick is currently about to fall off_ face.”

Minho hums. “I see. Well maybe I can do something about that.”

“Yeah, I think the fuck not,” Jisung says, finally gathering the strength to uncurl himself from a protective ball. “You’re not coming anywhere near my dick again.”

“Damn, turns out it really is unimpressive,” Minho sighs, smirking a little and Jisung _hates._ “Anyway, all I was gonna suggest was taking you back to my place so we can cuddle and watch a movie and maybe get you some ice for your broken dick.”

“That would be nice,” Jisung mumbles, pouting just a bit because he doesn’t like losing.

“I’m sorry, what?” Minho asks, raising an eyebrow.

Jisung _hates_. Minho specifically.

“You know what I said, now help me up.”

Jisung also hates Minho’s laugh. But that’s only because it does _things_ to his heart.

But Minho does help him up, giving him a hug on the way which makes Jisung feel a hell of a lot better, even though he can feel him shaking with laughter.

-

“I’m sorry I kneed your dick,” Minho says about halfway through the movie, glancing over at Jisung, whose cheeks are all puffed up with popcorn.

He struggles to chew it all and swallow to reply. “That’s alright. It’ll heal.”

“I don’t even know how I did it in the first place, all things considered,” Minho contemplates, leaning back against the edge of the sofa, poking Jisung’s thigh with his toe.

“Look, just because it’s kinda small it doesn’t mean–”

“Well, you clearly put it in the way somehow.”

“I think not, you were the one doing the grinding in that situation,” Jisung says, huffing a little. It is by no means his fault that Minho put his knee where his knee was not meant to go.

Minho laughs. “You keep telling yourself that, there was definitely grinding happening on both ends, don’t you think?”

Jisung scowls and admits nothing. But he does playfully slap Minho’s foot away from him, not before sending him a little smile though. He likes this easy bickering – it’s simple and it’s something he’s come to expect from Minho over the last few weeks. He likes to tease and he doesn’t bother to hide it, and Jisung, well Jisung can tease right back.

“You keep telling yourself that, honey,” he drawls and Minho hits him in the face with a cushion.

He ends up with some fluff in his mouth and a little scratch from the zipper of the cover, but there’s nothing Jisung would change about it, because Minho presses nothing short of ten kisses to his cheeks in apology before pulling him down into what might be the seventeenth hug of day.

He’s lost count. And something tells him he’ll never catch up.


End file.
